Through the Dark
by darktolight09
Summary: Series of Chuck and Blair drabbles. No specific time series, mostly only from season 3 and on to the future (past the final season) . Written whenever the Chair mood strikes. From fluff and family to angst and everything in between.
1. Lonely Ranger

**AN: This chapter is set sometime during early season three, thanks for reading. **

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"Ma'am, I need to see your ticket." The teenage ticket attendant called out as she brushed past him.

"Blair Waldorf, I'm here to see Chuck Bass, I don't think you do." She responded clearly annoyed

"But, but…" He stammed, not sure what to say

"Thanks." She said as she coolly walked away. She wasn't sure why, but she knew he would be here. He wasn't exactly the biggest hockey fan, but she knew he had purchased a vip box for him and his father for the season, because his father had liked them as a child. She entered the room, expecting to see Chuck, but she only saw four scantily clad women and a few men dresses in suits.

"Where is Mr. Bass?" She demanded as the rooms attention immediately turned to her.

"He left once we got here, weird since he called us. He told us we could stay for the game if we wanted to." One of them explained.

Immediately it clicked for her, he was in the back row of the bleacher section, where Bart would sit when he snuck in to the games in his youth.

"You motherchucker." She stood by him with her hand on her hip, he looked up at her from his seat. He wasn't drunk or weary eyed as she had expected. He just looked tired

"What is it now, Blair?" Chuck questioned, his tone seethed with anger; but he couldn't look her in the eye and he somehow shriveled into himself, she knew his tone wasn't his true feelings- it was a defense mechanism.

"Don't be like that Chuck, I was worried about you." She softened, and motioned to sit down in the empty seat next to him until remembered where they were and how dirty it would be. Chuck noticed this and slipped off his over coat to cover the chair. "Thank you." She said as she slid into the seat, intertwining his arm, which was resting on the arm rest, with hers and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"So I see you were having a party..." Blair spoke finally after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Wasn't much fun." Chuck answer solemnly, he knew he didn't have to explain the girls. They were for his associates, Blair knew this.

"Was this any better?"

"Now that you're here? Yes." He answered kissing the top of her head. "Bart never told me much about his life; it was mostly business between us. Him sneaking into these games as a child was a piece of him he did share with me; coming here and sitting in the seats he would sit in makes me feel close to Bart Bass, the person, my father; not Bart Bass the business man. Is that stupid?"

"Not the least bit." Her heart ached for him, she traced along his jaw line with her hand, drawing his lips to hers.

"Thank you." He breathed as they pulled away.


	2. Bonding

**AN**:Thanks for the reviews! A third chapter should be up tomorrow, which will be either centered around the family as a whole (set in the future like this one) or some Chuck and Blair angst, up to you guys what one you would rather see!

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"No daddy, you have to wear this one!" Lenore screeched as she thrusted a light blue tie, and matching pocket square at him, naturally matching the Burberry dress she had on

"I thought we agreed on Purple today?" Chuck questioned, raising an eyebrow at his four year old.

"And now we agree on Blue." She challenged, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"I suppose since you're the boss today…" He surrendered, she was Blair in so many ways. He quickly replaced his current tie and pocket square with the new ones.

"Up dad!" She pleaded holding her arms out to her father, he immediately complied after all she wouldn't be asking him to carry her for much longer. "And, Daddy, by the way" she began after placing a sloppy kiss on his check "I'm the boss everyday!" She exclaimed with a devious smile on her face. And with that he could not argue; at fours years old, she was already the boss of the most powerful man in Manhattan.

This was Lenore and Blair's bi-weekly tradition; A stroll through central park to feed the ducks, followed by breakfast pastries outside of Tiffany's, and shopping. They had missed last week because Lenore had been sick, and this week Blair ended up having to stay an extra day on her business trip in Paris, she wouldn't be home till bed time that day. His wife had been beside herself, and he knew his daughter would be upset not going at all this month, thus he cleared his schedule stepped in. His son, Henry, now eight was more than happy to spend the day with his Uncle Nate.

As much as he missed his wife, he was glad he could do this with his daughter today. He was in awe of the way she gracefully fed the ducks, rather than just throwing chunks like some of the other kids, although she did imitate them and giggle infectiously as they quacked back and forth. He made a mental note to ask Blair if she always did that, although it could have been a result of the few sips of coffee he let her have on the condition she didn't tell on him.

"Guess what our daughter asked for as I tucked her in tonight?" Blair questioned as she pulled back the duvet to climb into bed

"What did she ask for?" He responded trying to keep his voice level, knowing immediately what it was. He pretended to be engrossed in unbuttoning his dress shirt to avoid eye contact with her.

"Coffee…" She answered nonchalantly.

"Hmmm, that's funny." Chuck said a little more confidently, as he got into bed next to his wife. She didn't seem to know why she asked for that.

"Yes, very." She paused to look at him "But I thought it was funnier when she said that daddy gave it to her."

"Did she?"

"It's too bad, because I had something special for my wonderful husband." She declared, leaning in closer to whisper in his ear, "but it turns out he was bad." She finished as she gently bit his earlobe before pulling away.

"I suppose you'll just have to punish me then." He smirked while pulling her on top of him; he sure did miss her.


	3. Shadows and Henry

**AN**:This took a little longer than expected, and is a little longer than expected. I realize I could and maybe should have divulged into the problems a little more but again I did want to keep this collection short drabbles. Here's a bit of angst as requested, although in this sequence angry sex didn't quite fit, however it will be included within the next few chapters.

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Memory of that night scorches his brain, they were at a gala for Waldorf designs, his pregnant wife's belly had just begun to show. Her dress hid this, but it did not hide the plump cleavage the pregnancy had given her; nor a mother to be's radiant glow. She was flawless. He felt everyone in the rooms eye's on her, and he couldn't bear it. She left his side to circulate the room, while he left to grab scotch for himself and lemon water for her. After a few minutes of scanning the room he spotted her; she was in the corner of the room...flirting. The man she was speaking to stretched his hand out to caress her arm and leaned into her laughing at something she had said; she laughed also pushing lightly on his chest. He wasn't sure if it mind trick or the scotch, but he saw him lean in to kiss her and adrenaline kicked in. He hurried the rest of the way, quickly grabbed the back of the mans jacket, and swiftly right hooked his face. In his mind, the man wasn't the faceless business associate, it was Louis. The rooms low murmur of chatter suddenly fell silent, camera flashes shone bright in the dimly light ball room. He looked towards her face, which showed nothing but disbelief that was quickly overcome by anger.  
"Do not follow me." She whispered as she calmly left to compose herself. He was left to explain his actions to the engrossed crowd  
"I'm- I'm sorry everyone. Please get back to enjoying your night, I don't know what came over me. I apologize." Shortly after Blair's assistant timidly approached him and informed him Mrs. Bass has asked him to leave. He obliged immediately.

The frigid New York January air burned his face, he knew he should call Aruthr but he also feels his deserves this. He meant to walk towards the Empire, where he and Blair had been living while their newly bought UES three floor pent house was being renovated. But somehow he found himself drawn to Victorla, which Blair bought back secretly and surprised him with for their first anniversary. He sat in his usual couch, and the waitress immediately brought over a bottle of aged scotch. Lately he's felt his daemons catching up with him, everywhere he saw things that angered him. He saw Louis often in males Blair would speak to, he saw his father often, just a ghost that would disappear as soon as he looked it dead on but he would feel the presence. Tonight they got a hold of him; it was supposed to be a perfect night, Blair's night.

The next morning, rather than pictures of a successful gala in Honor of Blair Waldorf Bass, front pages were splashed with pictures of Chuck looking like a mad man. He hardly recognized himself, he didn't want to. He realized as he stirred from his alcohol induced slumber his wife had not come home last night, he called three times but was immediately rejected on all accounts. His phone buzzed with a message from her "I am fine. Please do not contact me right now, I will contact you when I wish to do so. I am staying at my mothers." Blair had not once yelled at him, this is how he knew he was in trouble.

He knows he should stop himself, he's hurt Blair enough, and she wouldn't want to see him. She'd be even more furious that he was bleary eyed and reeked of scotch and cigars.

He knows as he pushes the elevator button Dorota won't let him up the stairs to Blair's bedroom. He attempts to think of a way to charm her into letting him past, but he's far too drunk and she's unaffected by his charms even when sober. However, he isn't greeted by Dorota as he steps into the foyer as he expects; the home is eerily silent except the cracking of the fireplace.

She dawns black silk pajama pants and his cotton Stefano Ricci lavender stripe dress shirt; in place of her usual matching silk pajama top. Her hair is matted around her face, and her mouth is slightly parted. He watches the rise and fall of her chest for a few minutes, admiring how perfect she is, before crossing the room and kneeling before her. He rubs tiny circles on her hand and whisper s he's sorry over and over. She, while still mostly asleep informs him she knows, and its okay. He lifts her off the couch and carries her bridal style up the stairs and delivers her to her bed, tucking her in before sliding in next to her. He knows if he left on the uncomfortable couch, her back would hurt later.

"The bed is too big without you in it." She murmurs lightly as she pushes her back closer to him and clutches his hand tighter around him. It tears him in two, he knows he hurts her but he also knows that he can never leave, because that too would hurt her.

"Do you not love me anymore?" She asks suddenly after a long silence. It had taken her so long to allow herself to speak those words.

"Why would you ever say that?" Her question destroyed him.

"Your eyes, I used to be able to look into them and practically drown in your love. Now all I see is fear, and I don't know why. You stopped letting me in, I can tell something is bothering you. I've tried so often for weeks, and you ignore it. And as I started to ask questions, you started to work more. It's like all the sudden your walls are back up, and I'm shut out again." Tears spilled from her eyes, he began to attempt to explain away her fears, but she held a finger to his mouth "I'm not finished. When is the last time you told me I was beautiful? When is the last time we had sex?"

"Blair, I could never not love you. I'm just scared; it's hard for me to admit that. You are a perfect reflection of light, and I try so hard to be that and be good. But I feel my demons catching up to me, and it terrifies me. I see my father falling to his death because of me, over and over. I see terrible things happening to our baby, I see terrible things happening to you. The other night, I didn't see the man I punched, I saw Louis. I don't want to shut you out, but I don't want to drag you down." He cannot look at her as he says these things, he's embarrassed, and he is not the man he promised her he would be.

"Just because you have demons in your past, doesn't mean you're bad. Sharing this with me isn't going to drag me down; I want you to tell me about this. I want to be there for you, you are my family Chuck. You try, and that is always enough." She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her eyes, "Admitting you need help doesn't make you weak."

"Thank you." The words solemnly flowed; he planted a chaste kiss on her lips which were not salty from her free flow of tears. He leaned in again, this time their lips met with anything but chaste, as they grappled onto each other, each hoping to somehow take the others pain away with their touch. "Blair Waldorf Bass, you are the beautiful." And for the first time in a long time, at least by their standards, they showed each other the best way they knew how, how much they did love one another.

Chuck's hands roamed her slightly swollen belly, whispering quietly to their soon to be child.

"Henry." She said suddenly, as if she'd had an epiphany

"Why?" He knew she was referring to their naming of their child, but he was unsure of why she would pick that name, after all that had happened.

"You called yourself Henry when you wanted to reinvent yourself; when you wanted to become a better person. But Henry had been part of you all along, Henry is you. It represents your lightness, that will be passed on to our son." He beamed at her words, Henry felt right.


	4. What if?

**A/N**: Short "What if Scenario?" for the Limoversery Challenge, thank you Moozanna for letting me know about it.

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"So, are you disappointed you're not the First Lady of New York City?" Chuck whispered in her ear as they swayed in the ball room floor.

She scanned the room for her daughter, and found her bouncing happily in Lily's arms. Her son was with Serena and some of her socialite friends, no doubt charming them in typical fashion. Around her neck was an intricate Erickson Beamon necklace she received for her 17th birthday, and still had over ten years later. Her husband placed a gentle kiss on her exposed shoulder just as he had all those years ago.

Nate, now Mayor Archibald was greeting his supporters. His wife of about a year was by his side, her blonde hair spilling over her lean shoulders, she was the granddaughter of the Secretary of State. They were good together, they fit. She tried to image her being the one by Nate's side, but she drew a blank. She imagined she would look happy, although she knew she wouldn't really be, as she wasn't all the time they dated. She guessed they would also have children by now, and rather than bouncing in Lily's arms they would be in Anne's or Harold's, they would visit the Vanderbilt compound often. But that's all she could see, she couldn't envision a life or emotions surrounding Nate Archibald anymore.

For a long time after that first night in the limo, she would only feel sorry for herself "What if I hadn't done that? Would Nate and I be able to be happy, could the fairy tale life I mapped out for myself as a child still exist?" Today, the thought of "what if?" terrifies her, "What if that night hadn't happened, would I still have all this?"

Her husband was not being inaugurated as the Mayor of New York City; she would not be the first lady of her city. But she didn't need to be, this was her fairy tale. Outwardly it was very different from the life she had planned in that scrapbook, but this she thought, was so much better. Besides, she smiled at the after thought, her husband owned half of Manhattan; she was the First Lady and she didn't need an inaugural ball and a piece of paper to know that.

Two small bodies rushed towards them as the song they had been dancing to ended, and a new one faded in.

"Dance with me Daddy!" Her daughter beamed up at her father, tugging on his pant leg.

"Of Course, Princess." He said as he lifted her up, this was his typical response to anything she asked.

"Mommy, may I have this dance?" Blair nodded yes, their five year old was exceedingly proper for his age, he watched Chuck's every move and tried to replicate it exactly- right down to his speech. When he mimicked Chuck in this way, it was very cute. However, it occasionally called for beet red faces.

"Not at all." She answered to her husband as they broke away.


	5. Legacy

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! Makes my day :), hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll be doing a couple of Holiday drabbles coming up, most likely a thanksgiving chapter that goes through many thanksgivings, Christmas chapter that goes through Christmas etc

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Size seven Tory Burch flats pounded the dark concrete, crushing the freshly fallen leaves as they went.

"Thanks Arthur, and let's not worry my parents with this, just feeling a little under the weather that's all." She attempted to craft her face to match the easy assurance of her voice, but she felt her smile falter as quickly as she summoned it.

The moment her long time chauffeur opened the door her heart stopped, suddenly she really did feel sick. "Daddy..." She greeted cheerily as she slid in placing a kiss on his check "I was just feeling a bit sick, but I didn't want to interrupt you or mother." Her façade began to crumble, and she knew he would notice. He always did.

"You are never an interruption princess, I was just about to head to lunch actually, are you well enough to join me?" He really had a meeting scheduled to go over the acquisition of a new property, but when Arthur informed him his daughter had texted him to get her from school, he had his assistant reschedule; it could wait. His daughters smile didn't quite sit the way it usually does, and her eyes didn't match. Her forehead was spotted pink as it had been since she was a newborn when she would cry; her voice wasn't quite even as it usually was. His daughter was not sick she was sad.

"I already ate." This was not true, he could tell this also. She has all of Blair's mannerisms and they were both an open book to him.

"Let's stop at Laduree, and you can have Dorota draw you a bath when we get home." She was also like Blair in that, a box of macaroons and a bubble bath would help heal.

Chuck waits in his home office, knowing that because his daughter was so much like her mother she would be easier to talk to after she calmed down.

"Cor, can I come in?" He knocks softly on her door and waits for her approval.

She is engulfed in her pristine white duvet, silently hoping she could disappear into it. He sits at her feet patiently.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" He finally breaks the silence

"They don't like me." She didn't crumble as she thought she would, but she still felt the heat on her face.

"Who doesn't?" His brows furrowed in confusion, who could dislike his daughter?

"Everyone." She wasn't even sure why, before high school she has so many friends. But quickly into freshman year her friends slowly disappeared, reappearing as enemies. Her annual Friday night sleepovers, like her mother used to have with her friends we're replaced with parties she was never invited to. Lunches consisted of her sitting alone at a table, not eating as her classmates would saunter by snickering amongst themselves. Today, they "spilt" cranberry juice on to her white Chanel. Her woes spilled out at a pace her father struggled to keep up with. "Don't tell Mom please."

"Why don't you want her to know?" He found the request unusual, she had always had a strong bond with Blair, she told her everything.

"Because she'll be disappointed. She was perfect, everyone loved her, she was the 'Queen B' and I can't live up to that." That was another thing they taunted her with, how she could never live up to Blair Waldorf Bass; how disappointed her mother must be.

"I don't think you realize how much like her you are. I could tell you what I know about high school, but that's a very different perspective. Talk to your mother, being 'Queen B' wasn't black and white for her." He had a flashback to her demise during high school, and his role in it, and how she almost ran away. "I don't think it would ever cross her mind to be disappointed in you." He leaned to kiss her forehead and wrap her duvet a little snugger around her, "If it means anything, I think you're pretty cool."

"Thanks Dad." She allowed herself to laugh for the first time in a while "I think you're pretty cool too."

Hours later he listened from outside the kitchen, almost exclusively used by a hired Chef or Dorota, who left it two hours prior to be with her own family in Queens. His two girls were standing around the island digging into the Pumpkin Pie they just baked; it was the only thing Blair knew how to make and, despite it being a Thanksgiving tradition, occasionally one of them would get the itch before the Holiday.

"Wait so why didn't you leave?!" Corneila asked her Mother, who had just came to the end of the story of the devastating middle of her junior year, pregnancy scandal and all. She hadn't even gotten to senior year yet. Blair had always wanted to be honest with her daughter, in hopes her daughter would be honest with her. She also hoped she could spare her daughter her mistakes.

"Aunt Serena stopped me on the tarmac. "

"Not Daddy?" She interrupted, she was sure her father would have stopped her.

"No, not Daddy." Blair had left the Arabian reference out of her story, while she wanted to be honest with Corneila, she wouldn't paint Chuck in a bad light. "Although I'm sure if I ended up in France he would have came a few months later to beg for my return. Lucky for him Serena saved him the trip" Blair smiled at the thought before continuing "You're a Waldorf, people don't tell you who you are, you tell them" she quoted her best friend "And you my dear are even more than a Waldorf, you are a Waldorf Bass, you just haven't told the world who you are yet."

"I don't think I know how."

"Of course you do, scheme is in your blood. Come, close your eyes, I think I have something that may help." She grabbed her daughters hand and led her into her private closet and dressing area. "Okay sit, but keep them closed."

She herself had stopped wearing her signature headbands as she grew older, but in so many ways those headbands were a sign of her power during high school, and although just a symbol, she often drew confidence from them. She selected her favorite France Luxe, black with crystals; timeless. "You can open them now."

She held the signature Bass smirk as she adjusted the headband her mother had just given her; she could feel the power ooze from the crystals.

"You know Mother, I think you have a pair of Manolo Blahnik's that go perfectly."

"That's my girl." Blair said proudly as she turned to walk to the shoe section of her closet, returning with the Black jeweled pumps. "Now let's figure out how to introduce the most powerful fifteen year old in Manhattan."


End file.
